


Stealing Smiles

by The_Wonderful_Jinx



Category: The Black Tapes, The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wonderful_Jinx/pseuds/The_Wonderful_Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strand likes it when Alex smiles. It’s just as good as the view of Big Sur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stealing Smiles

It had been raining for hours on their way back to Seattle after weeks of out of town research. The clouds broke for a moment, the harsh pink skies told Strand they had driven through the night. Technically, Strand had been driving. Alex was in charge of music, answering text messages, and directions. It was her keen eye (or perhaps the GPS) that alerted him to a nearby pit stop, a diner and gas station combo just a few minutes away. Just in time too, he caught himself dozing at the wheel and he was down to a quarter tank of gas.

They had to run to avoid the worst of the downpour that started when they pulled into the lot. Alex slipped and nearly hit the wet pavement if Strand wasn’t quick to catch her and drag her inside. The diner was a small place; the interior was as though they traveled back to the 50s. The floors were black and white tile checkers, bright pink walls, and a neon jukebox that was being argued over by two truckers was tucked into the corner. Customers sat in peeling red vinyl booths. Other sat at the counter, their stools creaked every time they moved. The rest of the customers were like themselves, weary and hungry travelers needing rest from the rainy weather. No one wanted to be here, but no one wanted to leave just yet. Strand could feel eyes burning at the back of his head as the hostess led them to their seats. Even as a traveler, he was an outsider in his dressy clothes. Alex did not appear as fazed as he was. 

“This is the type of place that would give even the most strongest of stomachs food poisoning.” Strand grumbled as they slid into an empty booth.

“Don’t complain Richard.” Alex whispered, taking the seat facing him. “I’ll handle the tip if you take care of the bill.” He complied without another word. Unlike Strand, Alex found comfort in the gaudiness of her surroundings. It reminded her of the road trips through New England in her youth. It was a place she imagined that had crap coffee, but had wonderful house-made dessert by an elderly woman who had too much time on her hands. She noted they had cherry pie on the menu. She wondered if Strand would it eat if she offered to share. Probably not, he hated sweets despite her attempts to bring him over.

A few minutes of deliberating over the dog eared menus, a waitress -most likely a college student who needed the extra cash for textbooks- took their orders. Black tea, waffles, and bacon for Strand. Plain coffee, scrambled eggs, home fries, and wheat toast with strawberry jam for Alex. The waitress left without a second glance. Strand smiled and took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Alex titled her head.

“Something the matter?” she inquired.

“This is the first place we’ve been to where no one has recognized us from your podcast.” Strand replied.

“We’re practically in the middle of nowhere. I’d be more surprised if they can get internet here.” she responded. He rested his head in his hands and massaged his aching temples. Days like these he felt his age catching up with him. Alex reached forward and ran her fingers through his wet hair and occasionally scratching his scalp. He sighed in satisfaction, headache slightly eased.

“Feel better?” she asked.

This time, Strand was the one to lean forward, their noses barely touching. Alex did not back away; her eyes shifted to the people seated at the counter. Though Strand said no one recognized them, it didn’t hurt to check. Strand was close enough to see just how dark her eyes were. So dark, they seemed to absorb light, rather than reflect them. He loved them, how warm and welcoming they were despite their void-like qualities.

“Need something Richard?” she whispered.

“Just a smile Alex.” She complied, giving him the best smile she could muster despite her exhaustion and growling stomach. He loved it, more than he loved the view of Big Sur in the sunset, full moons, gothic-style buildings, and his work. He had a list of things he would willingly give up if it meant seeing Alex smile one more time. He had another list, tucked away in his brain, of all the kind of smiles she had. Small smiles, half-hearted smiles, polite-yet-strained smiles given to those who bothered her, tired smiles when they woke up first thing the morning, and smiles such as the one she was sporting that would disappear once an outsider stepped into their space. It was a smile she could share with the whole world, but she only wore it in his presence. He felt like a thief in the night taking it away from other people, but that was why he loved it so. It was his and his alone to have.

They pulled away just as the waitress came back with their food. If the waitress saw the color rushing into their cheeks, she didn’t show it. (She did notice, but she wasn’t going to miss out on a tip because she didn’t keep her mouth shut).

Their hands were entwined as they ate in comfortable silence. No one bothered them. No one stopped them when they left. A twenty dollar bill and a handwritten note thanking the waitress for the excellent meal was all they left behind as they raced back to the car, energized and ready for the road.

**Author's Note:**

> Just our favorite Dr. Strand doing what he usually does best, admiring Alex.


End file.
